


Terror! In the Deep

by Dragon_in_a_CypressSwamp



Series: Selkie Tales [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Comedy, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Not Actually Spooky, Selkies, Slightly spooky, The Polar Tang, fishmen, non-linear compilation of shorts, occasional cameos by Strawhat Pirates, spot the mermaid!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_in_a_CypressSwamp/pseuds/Dragon_in_a_CypressSwamp
Summary: A compilation of shorts featuring the Heart Pirates living in a submarine at depths light can't penetrate, and all the scary things that can exist down there.It's them.  They were the scary things all along.AKA:  silly stories about the Heart Pirates unintentionally scaring each other silly.  Featuring No Heart is 100% Human, because that gives the author options.Guest appearances from:  Usopp the Brave, and Lily the self-insert that's Law's twin from a different story I haven't posted, but she wanted to manifest in this compilation to poke at her crew and who am I to deny this?  Lily's self-insert-ness is ignorable if you aren't into that sort of thing, no worries
Relationships: Heart Pirates & Trafalgar D. Water Law
Series: Selkie Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806724
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Terror! In the Deep

Usopp has been aboard the Polar Tang for eight (8) hours, and he desperately wants off.

It’s not that it’s a submarine. It was fun to hang out with Franky and the Heart mechanics earlier, watching it descend at a sane pace. He also considers the whole ‘hiding away from your enemies’ thing something of a relief, really, even if it’s starting to dawn on him that he can’t shoot anything from inside here, so he is completely reliant on their allies’ abilities to use the Tang’s weapons to best advantage against whatever it is that lurks down this deep. And in the New World, it could be anything. Sea Kings. Metal-eating squid. Parasites that burrow into the wood of ship hulls and burst out at you the moment you set foot on deck once more.

Whatever the hecking heck was in the hallway just now.

“What?” Trafalgar Law looks down at where Usopp is cowering behind him as the closest monster to interpose between him and danger that is far too close.

Usopp points down the hallway where whatever it was disappeared down. He gibbers.

Law looks at the empty hallway. He tilts his head, ever so slightly. He looks down at Usopp.

“It’s a hallway.”

“SOMETHING WAS THERE!”

“…My crew?”

“That—that!” Usopp gestures, entirely unable to put into words the sheer what the heck he saw briefly cross the intersection. There were tentacles. There was light. There was something metallic. There was the scent of ozone. There was a humanoid shape out of the corner of his eye, and then it was gone.

Law blinks. “…your crew? The samurai? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There was something there!” Usopp repeats.

Law stares at him for another heartbeat before striding to the intersection. He looks both ways, then shrugs.

Tagging along, Usopp points at the scuffed pools of something dripped behind whatever it was.

Law’s eyebrow twitches, and he turns to march down the hallway, following the tracks.

Aware he might be about to witness a gruesome murder—that of Law when the monster jumps out to eat him, or the monster’s when Law found who or what had been leaving a drag-trail of…

Was that soot? Ink? Maybe tar? Ichor from some monstrous deep sea monster?!

The pipes groan around them, and Usopp clutches the back of Law’s jacket so he’s not left behind as he peers around in case of sudden-pipe-bursting-crabs-with-metal-arms-and-octopus-steeds. Or blood-sucking octopuses who stole every wrench onboard and were looking to farm crabs with the blood of foolish—

“Oi!” Law knocks loudly on the door the drag marks disappear into, and Usopp scampers back, readying his slingshot. “Squid! Are you injured in there?!”

There’s a pause, before a muffled ‘damn it’s good to have you back’ comes through. Law glares at the door, lips twisting to the side like he doesn’t know whether to be pleased or exasperated.

It creaks open a sliver, just enough for the head of one of Law’s crew to appear in the opening. Viscous black liquid drips around his lab goggles like he lost a water balloon fight against a literal squid. “It’s not that bad, I’ll meet you in the infirmary in a bit.”

“What happened to the emergency wash downstairs?”

“Walrus.”

Law’s eyes narrow pointedly.

“Oh, don’t worry Captain—he just got more ink on him, is all. Experiment blew up, but beside the ink it’s just scratches. ”

“…Your experimental ink, which you use in chemical weapons, blew up all over you, Walrus, the workshop, and your still-healing wounds from Zou?” 

“Yup! Don’t worry, it’s the mild stuff, not the acid.”

Usopp winces in sympathy, having had enough chemical spills of his own.

The set of Law’s shoulders relaxes a bit. “Get back under the water. Do you need anything specific to neutralize anything…?”

“I’ve got the powder with me but thanks, Captain!”

“I’ll go check on Walrus and get Otter to clean this up,” Law shakes his head.

Usopp breathes a sigh of relief as he trails after Traffy.

Until he remembers all of Traffy’s crew are human, and he’d clearly glimpsed waving tentacles.

…what the HECK was in that ink?

.

.

Look. Usopp wasn’t Zoro, okay? In most cases he meant ‘not a monster’, but in this case he just means he’s not too proud to recognize when he’s lost.

So while Zoro has clearly been swallowed by the Polar Tang whole, Usopp is at this point just looking for someone to point him back to his room. Or the kitchen for a glass of milk and something to get his mind off of worrying about the missing half of his crew, but he’ll settle for returning to the room Bepo the polar bear mink said they could use.

Finding a Heart Pirate, any Heart Pirate is harder than he thought when its late at night and the sub is making weird noises and the lights of random halls are off or dimmed and red, and Usopp is so lost on a ship that isn’t his crew’s, and every porthole he passes just shows complete darkness, and how on earth is this ship so simultaneously full of people and completely empty on every single hallway he turns down.

These hallways were entirely too twisty, dark, and cramped for a poor sniper’s nerves. A poor sniper who might have started seeing things with observation haki, he honestly can’t tell if those colors are his eyes refusing to accept the absolute darkness of his nightmares or if its someone on the other side of the walls. Every time he thinks he sees someone they aren’t there, it was the light of his flashlight on the metal everything, and it’s getting to him.

In desperation, Usopp turns the handle of a random door, swinging it open.

Oh look, another dark room—

Something lights up.

Usopp freezes in terror.

The lights roll and shift, revealing the body wearing them through pieces and absences. The light plays off the surfaces of the kitchen, reflecting back the after image of what is like one of those weird glowing fish they’d seen on the journey to and from Fishman Island.

It has teeth, its twisted in a really scary way, and its staring right at him.

Its perched up high in the middle of the room that Usopp’s Sniper Instincts identify as a prime spot to hunt from.

Usopp backs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Nope, nope, nope, nope nope nope!”

.

.

Okay so like.

It’s on night cycle so half the lights are off to preserve power, right? Cuz’ some people get twitchy when the day/night thing gets disrupted and there’s guests so Captain is all rawr about things running smoothly and who needs lights anyway? Not this crew, that’s who.

You’re in the kitchen, eating a sandwich.

On top of the fridge because you’re Cuttlefish.

And that’s just how you roll. Hanging out in odd places is your thing.

You’ve got a plate because you’re not a slob, thanks.

It’s a little dusty up here, so you really don’t want to drop your sandwich.

You’re squinting at the door because was that one of the Strawhats? They’d shut the door pretty quickly after opening it for some reason, before you could light things up clearly enough to make them out.

…It’s probably fine. Or at least not your problem for the length of time it takes to eat the rest of your illicit midnight snack, because you’ve been trying to herd guests all day and if that was the Pirate Hunter again, you are going to try to feed him to your snails.

You might be a little salty because there are clear labels beside most doors. You had even, in the spirit of helpfulness, spent several hours painting temporary directional markers around the Tang. Stuff like ‘Strawhat Room!’, ‘Strawhat Room this way!’, ‘Samurai room!’, ‘This way to food!’, ‘This way to bathroom!’

You know, helpful stuff!

It went largely ignored. If Robin and Captain hadn’t noticed and thanked you, that would’ve been hours wasted. Instead, you got a fish from Captain.

Getting fish and praise from Captain makes nearly anything worth it. Even if the Pirate Hunter blatantly wandered right past your ‘Danger Beyond This Point’ sign twice already. The one meant to keep them away from, like, the actual dangerous or delicate parts of the Tang.

That bastard. What did he think it meant???

You mean, like, Law’s been away from home for months, of course there aren’t any dangerous beasts to fight, or experiment on, or try to tame.

Anyway, you take another bite of your amazing ‘today was weird’ sandwich, stare at the door, and listen to the familiar sounds of the Polar Tang as you relax enough for the light to slowly dim back to cover just your corner again.

Ah. Home. Zou’s fun, but there’s nothing like the ambience of your home. All those creaks, groans, and weird clicking noises coming steadily closer.

Wait, what?

…It’s probably fine.

It had better be fine for the length of time it takes to finish this sandwich. Or else you might have to go wake up the engineers, and find out what happened to the engineer on duty, and they are all terrifying on too little sleep. They get weird ideas and come for your ink.

You hope it isn’t another infestation of those crab things. They were annoying, but delicious. Deliciously annoying.

Maybe you do hope it’s those crab things?

No, no. They would make off with your sandwich. No decapod bastards are going to steal your illicit sandwich.

…Or maybe somebody is doing something weird in their room, because they did their best to soundproof this place but it’s still metal, you know, sound carries. The weirder the sound the better it carries. That’s definitely how that works.

The clicking continues to come closer as you pause eating to listen.

And okay, you think to yourself, colors flickering across your skin. You don’t have to go camo, it’s probably somebody up like you are. Like that Strawhat you just saw.

…oh, goddamn it you’d rather not get caught again.

Oh shit, it’s still coming this way

It’s coming closer

Through the little porthole in the door, you don’t see the hall lights turn on. They do not turn on.

You watch for them but they don’t turn on. So you don’t get the ominous shadow, you just get the ‘chunk’ of turning metal and the meaningless high pitched noise that isn’t metal on metal coming from behind the door.

Your skin flickers through to camouflage against the cabinets behind you. You go still. They can’t see you if you’re still. Your mask sits on your dusty perch so you can eat, and you’re not wearing a shirt because ew, who wears shirts to bed when they don’t have to hide being half fishman?? This means you blend in better.

The door opens.

Melding from out of the darkness looms the last person you want to see.

His sunglasses are still on his face, even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Wha--?” Shachi asks, lifting his shades and staring right at you. His tongue makes another clicking noise like a snake scenting the air.

There’s a sharp inhale, and you know you’re doomed.

“GODDAMN IT CUTTLEFISH WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU—“

Compromised! Flee!

Flee, skin flickering through a kaleidoscope of colors, screaming as you abandon your ill-gotten sandwich to the true master of darkness! And master of the kitchen!

Flee, noodling yourself past the indignant Shachi reaching for the Broom of Punishment to shoo you down from the very helpfully spaced piping along the ceiling that your many tentacles were just made to stick to!

“DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH MY MEAL PLANS?!”

Stop shrieking once you’re in the hallway because nobody wants to risk waking up Law!

Orcas!

Truly the most terrifying thing to encounter in a kitchen!

.

.

“Dammit Cuttlefish,” Shachi grumbles to himself as he re-enters the kitchen. This time he turns on the light, even though he grimaces behind his shades as the light sears around their darkened edges.

Grumbling, he cleans up the sandwich, stuffing it in a container for Cuttlefish to come back to later.

“If you’re going to eat on the fridge, why can’t you dust up here?” Shachi grumbles to himself before dropping to the floor and kicking the stepstool back under the counter. “I say, also not dusting the top of the fridge.”

He opens it, trying to find what was used. “…Aw, c’mon, the banana bread? We’re out of bananas. Wait—“

Shachi pauses, frowning into the middle distance. A disgusted look crawls over his face. “…Cuttlefish ate a ham sandwich with mayonnaise and pickles on banana bread?”

He looks back to the container, double-checking that no, he’s not seeing things. It is indeed the banana bread he’d so lovingly baked earlier, meant for breakfast in a few hours.

A slice of tomato presses sinisterly against the edge of the plastic.

Shachi puts the sandwich down.

“…My crew has such weird tastes,” he mutters as he closes the fridge and goes over to what he’d originally come here for:

His stash of jerky. Perfect for those moments when you just want to sink your fangs into something and rip it apart sinew by sinew, but your Captain says you can’t do that to your crew, even though your bro's been congested since he got a lungful of poison and his snoring is obnoxiously awful.

“Resorting to cannibalism already, huh?”

“YARG!” Shachi hits the shelf, immediately doubling back over as the sturdy thing (thankfully) doesn’t budge at the back of his head smacking into it. “Where do you come from?!”

“Another dimension, why?”

Shachi turns to blearily glare at the title holder of ‘Most Jumpscares on the Ship’, rubbing his head. She grins crookedly back at him. “I’m never going to know how you keep doing that, am I?”

Lily shrugs. The amount of time she’s been sitting on the potato barrel behind him may be anywhere from seconds to before Shachi entered the room. “To be fair, I don’t know how I keep doing that. I wasn’t even trying.”

Shachi sits down facing her, grumpily tearing himself another chunk of jerky. “Well there’s my pride shot. Again.”

Lily shrugs, nibbling a piece of cheese.

“What are you doing up?” Shachi asks, settling in to roll with the usual late night weirdness that shows up on the Polar Tang.

She gestures with the cheese. “Contemplating the potatoes, and other existential horrors.”

Shachi stares at her.

Lily stares back.

“…What?” Shachi asks, breaking into huffing laughter. “I have to ask: what?”

She snickers. “I can’t sleep.”

“You like potatoes,” Shachi says like he has to remind her.

“I do,” she confirms, and leaves it there. Smiling like a woman of deep mystery.

Or a crazy Cthulhu fan. Shachi shakes his head. “Oookay then. Going to elaborate on those potato thoughts keeping you up?”

She looks down at the barrel she’s sitting on, contemplative with a faintly amused tilt to her lips.

“…Nah,” she decides, patting the potato barrel. “What about you? You’re usually up at six am, what are you still doing awake?”

“Well initially, I couldn’t sleep because of the flock of birds in Penguin’s throat, but now I think I’m going to be kept up wondering what on earth you meant with the potatoes.”

She laughs. “Happy to be of service.”

She also does not elaborate.

Great, now Shachi is definitely going to contemplate what existential horrors there could exist within the humble potato. Dammit.

Shachi rolls his eyes to the ceiling, deciding to turn back to the waters he can handle. “It’s awful Lily, awful. I’m this close to flipping him into the hallway,” he presses his fingers together, before tearing off another chunk of seal jerky, talking through it. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he was just snoring, but he’s doing this nasal whistle thing every few minutes and it sounds just left of being a whale noise, so in the back of my head I keep trying to translate and it’s just horrible error noises so I jerk awake because what the fuck was that, right? And then I realize it’s just Penguin and try to get back to sleep, but then it happens again! Right as I’m about to fall asleep! And there isn’t a pattern to it, either!” He rants, gesturing with the jerky. “And THEN, BEPO! Did his sleep talk thing! He thought it was the wind whistling or something, I dunno.”

Like a true friend, Lily laughs at his pain.

Shach flails his jerky, trying to encompass just how stupid his night has been. “He started giving orders on tying the sails down! I was so tired it was minutes before I stopped trying to tie my blanket to the bunk’s railing, wondering why the air was so still if there was a storm coming in!”

Lily laughs so hard she gasps for air.

Shachi shakes the jerky at her. “Oh sure, laugh it up Miss Potato Farmer.”

“It’s a humble calling,” she wheezes.

Not having a joke to finish his setup, Shachi just leans back with a sigh, stretching his legs out across the little aisle between them. Lily’s laughter slowly peels off, the woman settling down again.

Shachi could probably ask what Lily’d snitched from the food stores, but he kinda didn’t care. Everyone was free to snack, this wasn’t the Marines, he just needed to keep things rationed to last. Which meant certain things were off limits, or had to be eaten or turned into something else by a certain date and were therefore free for all after a certain time if they’re not gone by then.

There are lists pinned to the refrigerator door. Multiple lists. Entire spreadsheets concocted by Otter when he’d invited her and her baffling love of math into doing these calculations every time he restocked.

Lists Cuttlefish never paid attention to in all their time as a Heart Pirate. Earning them banishment from the kitchens, which they also never paid attention to.

“You wanna sleep with me?” Lily offers casually, curling over on herself on the potato barrel like a cat in a too-small box.

Shachi considers the prospect of sleeping in the same room as Law the Insomniac and Lily the Restless Clinger. “Sure, thanks. Can’t be any worse than sleeping in here.”

“With the horror potatoes?”

“…Please don’t,” he begs, rolling to his feet.

The lights turn out behind them with a final click, Lily’s snickers echoing across the dark metal grating. The absolute darkness that can only be found at the bottom of the ocean and deep caverns washes back into the room as the door swings closed on well-oiled hinges.

The potatoes remain, returned to the darkness they’d grown in.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think Usopp encountered Cuttlefish in the hallway again right after this, screamed, aimed his slingshot at them, Cuttlefish screamed, Law opened the door to his room to glare, and Usopp is kindly directed back to the Strawhats' room. Cuttlefish lurks around for a while before retrieving the rest of their sandwich, which is saved from getting soggy in the fridge overnight. Shachi passing out across his chest encourages Law to get the best night of sleep he's had since finding how badly his crew was hurt on Zou.
> 
> Ending the story happily except for the part where Usopp spends a great deal of time wondering what was in that ink. How did it grow tentacles? Were the potatoes in on it?! Was it GLOW IN THE DARK INK?! Was the darkness playing tricks on his sniper eyes?! These questions haunt him until the obvious 'it was a fishman all along' smacks him in the face but he didn't think integrated crews were that common after what they saw on Fishman Island. But Law is a D, which means he does not care. They're interesting, they're competent, he likes them, they let him poke their biology to examine how their tentacles do the thing...its so wonderfully simple it wraps back around to complicated.
> 
> And of course the scariest thing was Cuttlefish's sense of taste. Truly horrifying!


End file.
